East High Story
by Mitslits
Summary: When you take Sherlock and John from Sherlock and make them Troy and Gabriella from High School Musical, you get a very odd re-telling of the Disney movie.


The scene opens on a typical New Year's Eve. Snow lies softly on the ground, twinkling in the golden glow of the Christmas lights that still cling to the edge of the houses and the large hotel in the area. A large, open room with floor-to-ceiling windows is packed with teenagers, their ceaseless chatter filling the air intermixed with the sounds of party favors and some soft music in the background.

If you'll permit, we'll change locations for a brief time to see a lounge area, a tall, thin boy resting on a sofa, nose buried in a book. His dark curls frame his face, dropping in front of his eyes as they scan the page before him; lost in the world of his book, he does not hear his mother approach from behind.

"Sherlock, it's New Year's Eve. Enough reading", she scolds, plucking the book easily from his hands and closing it.

He starts up, face falling in protest. "Oh, but mom, I'm almost done, and-" he begins.

Glancing at him sternly, his mother says, "The teen party? I've laid out your best clothes. Come get ready." She turns to leave, but Sherlock's hand shoots out and grabs her wrist.

Pleading eyes look up into his mother's face. "Can I have my book back?" he begs, holding out his free hand. His mother hesitates briefly, but relents, placing the book in his waiting hand. "Thank you", he says, smiling up at her.

His mother returns the smile before turning away. "Come on", she commands.

Sherlock pushes himself off the sofa, following her into the hallway.

Another mother passes by the basketball court, dressed in a flowing green dress. Bracelets sparkle on her wrist and light glints in her eyes as she smiles at the two figures on the shining wooden floor.

"Keep working left, John", a deep voice commands, followed by the bouncing sound of a basketball. A man in sweatpants and an old, gray T-shirt watches his son catch the ball and line up the shot. "We got a guard in the championship game we're expectin'. You'll torch him!"

John grips the ball listening to his father intently. "By going left?" he asks.

"Yeah. He looks middle, you take it downtown", his father enthuses.

"Okay, like this?" John moves quickly, half-turning to the right before spinning back the other way, raising the ball and throwing it up.

His father jumps after it, but it flies past his fingers and straight through the hoop. "Whoo!" he says as it drops into his hands. "That's it, man. Sweet."

John and his father both began to talk excitedly at once. "Okay-" "See that in the game-" "Of course-"

"Boys", John's mother says, finally speaking up. At the sound of her voice, both look up, fixing their gazes upon her instead of the basketball. She walks into the room, disappointment on her face. "Did we really fly all this way to play more basketball?" she scolds them.

Exchanging glances with each other, John and his father nodded. "Yeah", they said simultaneously.

His mother frowns. "It's the last night of vacation. The party? Remember?" she reminds them, spinning around to show off her dress.

Her husband catches her drift, nodding his head. "Right. The party, the party, New Year's Eve!"

"John, they have a kids party downstairs in the freestyle club", his mother says.

John's face falls as his father passes him the ball they'd been playing with. "Kids party?"

His mother hurries to correct herself. "Young adults, now go. Shower up", she commands, pointing towards the door.

Snatching the ball from his dad, John rushes forwards, holding up one finger. "Come on. Just one more. Last one, real quick", he pleads.

She stands back, watching as he throws it up directly into the net.  
"There we go, that's the way to end it."

The same room we began in comes back into play. It is still filled with teens, but this time a country melody twangs in the background and spotlights swirl around, adding to the mood. This is where John steps in, wearing a black suit jacket over a white shirt and black slacks and looking very unenthusiastic about the whole situation. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he makes his way through the crowd, eventually taking shelter against a wooden column.

Sherlock weaves through the crowd dressed in a long sleeve blue shirt and jeans, book in hand. Ignoring the rest of the partygoers, he finds an armchair and settles down in it, opening up the novel.

Up on a stage, a boy and girl stand in front of two microphones, the music dying down. An older boy stands between them, clapping his hands. "How about that for a couple of snowboarders?" he calls as the girl curtsies. "Yeah!" The crowd starts to cheer and the boy hustles off the stage while the girl soaks up the applause, before finally stepping off. "Who's gonna rock the house next?" He waits for a second, but gets no takers, so he steps off heading over to the lighting booth.

John yawns and looks around him disinterestedly until he realizes a spotlight has fallen on him. Freezing, he looks over to the grinning boy with the mike. Eager hands push him forwards, though he tries to protest.

Squinting down at the words on his page, Sherlock suddenly finds it easier to read. Eyes narrowed, he glances up to see the spotlight has found him as well.

"I can't sing", John says desperately.

The boy who has forced them into this situation heads over to Sherlock, taking his hand and pulling him up. "You and you. Yeah, come on." Sherlock is at a loss for words as others push him forwards, stunned by what has happened.

John still tries to get out of it with feeble protests of, "I don't sing. I can't", but no one is listening to him. "No, guys!" He finds himself in front of the microphone standing next to a strange boy who is glancing down at his feet, arms wrapped around his torso. He can't be much younger than John, but he looks a hundred times more nervous.

The boy running the spotlights steps up behind them. "Hey, you know what, someday you guys might thank me for this", he assures them. They remain silent and he adds an, "Or not", to the end before handing the mike to John.

Music begins to play and John glances desperately over at the other teen who looks away, avoiding his gaze. He fixes the microphone into the stand, realizing he will have to take the first verse.

"Living in my own world, didn't understand that anything can happen, when you take a chance", he sings, voice high-pitched due to nerves. 'That's it', he thinks, 'I'm done'. Turning, he begins to walk off the stage.

Sherlock glances up at the screen from behind his curtain of curls, deciding that he can't let the other boy beat him in bravery. "I never believed in what I couldn't see", he sings out, voice amplified by the mike.

It stops John in his tracks and he turnsto face the pale boy. He's never heard a voice that captivated him as much as his did in this moment. As he continues to sing, John reclaims his former place.

"I never opened my heart to all the possibilities", Sherlock finishes.

Both of them follow the words on the screen and begin singing together, the crowd startingz to take notice now.  
"I know that something has changed. Never felt this way and right here tonight, this could be the start of something new. It feels so right, to be here with you. And now, I'm lookin' in your eyes, I feel in my heart, the start of somethin' new."

Confidence bolstered by the other boy, John sheds his jacket as he takes the third verse. "Now, who'd have ever thought that we'd both be here tonight?" He grabs the microphone out of its stand and turns to face Sherlock.

A reluctant smile creeps onto his face as he cups the stand, trying not to glance over at John. "And the world looks so much brighter with you by my side."

"I know that something has changed, never felt this way, I know it for real. This could be the start of something new, it feels so right to be here with you", they sing together, the crowd cheering them on. "And now looking in your eyes, I feel in my heart the start of something new."

John dips the stand towards Sherlock. "I never knew that it could happen till it happened to me", he sings soulfully.

Sherlock can't help but grin as he joins in. "I didn't know it before, but now it's easy to see. It's the start of something new. It feels so right to be here with you. Ohh. And now, looking in your eyes, I feel in my heart that it's the start of something new." John had been slowly advancing on Sherlock as they sang and he had been retreating until he feels his foot slip off the edge of the stage.

Hands propel him forwards keeping him from falling, but making him blush at his near collapse. "It feels so right to be here with you and now, looking in your eyes I feel in my heart the start of something new. The start of something new." The music begins to die, but the crowd fills the silence with claps and whistles.

As they stare at each other the boy who had set them up hops onstage.

"John", John introduces himself, holding out his hand.

Sherlock takes it. "Sherlock."

Now they're outside on a deck directly in front of the building, both holding mugs of hot cacao. "But, seriously, you have an amazing voice. You're a singer, right?" John asks.

Sherlock shakes his head. "No. Just church choir is all. I tried a solo once and nearly fainted", he informs him.

"Really? Why is that?" They come to a halt in front of a table and John leans against it, staring at the other boy intently.

Sherlock grimaces. "I took one look at all the people staring at me and next thing I knew, I was staring at the ceiling", he said bitterly. "End of solo career."

John grins at him. "Well, with the way you sang tonight, that's pretty hard to believe", he says.

"Well, that was the first time I've done something like that", Sherlock admits. "I mean, it was so cool." He felt ridiculous, talking like a normal teenager, but it was probably what John expected of him and he was just conforming to societal norms.

Not understanding that Sherlock is playing him, John nods eagerly. "I know. Completely."

Time to return the compliment, though they were certainly not his forte. "You sounded like you'd done a lot of singing too", he tries.

John scoffs. "Yeah, sure, my shower head is very impressed with me", he says scornfully.

Sherlock forces a laugh, internally wincing. He'd seen that much already simply by looking at the boy, but to come out and say something like that to a total stranger... well, John was certainly a lot more open than Sherlock himself.

The crowd behind them raises their voices in the traditional countdown. "Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"

Thoughts of the normal traditions done at the end of the countdown go winging through Sherlock's head; the one that worries him most is the kiss. John is a total stranger, there is no way he is going to- Fireworks break out, saving him. Turning a relieved glance to the sky he steadfastly refuses to look at John.

John watches the bright colors burst above him and Sherlock, looking down at the other boy a moment later.

Sherlock has only turned his head to see him for a moment and of course John chooses that exact one to see him. Blushing, he turns his head away quickly. "I-I guess I better go find my mom and wish her a happy New Year", he stammers.

"Yeah, me too", John agrees. "I mean, not your mom. My mom. And dad." He looks away, embarrassed. 'That was smooth.' Scrambling to rectify the situation, he turns back to him. "Uh... I'll call you. I'll call you tomorrow!"

Sherlock feigns enthusiasm. "Yeah. Here." He digs into his pocket, searching for his cellphone.

John is faster and he takes his out. "Put your number in. Uh... there", he says, snapping a quick photo of Sherlock right as he managed to find his phone.

Not to be outdone, Sherlock holds up his own phone. "You too", commands.

"Oh, okay", John concedes, not used to having any sort of photo taken that didn't include him holding a basketball trophy. "Cool. There you go."

They exchange phone numbers and Sherlock slips away quietly, fully intending on never seeing John again.

"Just so you know", John says, staring down at his phone, "singing with you was the most fun I've had on this entire vacation. So, um, where do you live?" Receiving no reply, he glances about him realizing Sherlock has vanished. He looks down at the picture in his phone. "Sherlock."


End file.
